A Candle for Euphie
by Mr. Page
Summary: "Wallow in remorse when you have time for it." These are words Lelouch once spoke. So what happens when such a time arrives? How will it affect Lelouch, and what will he discover in his remorse? Darkness without hope, or a glimmer of light worth holding to? Lelouch x Euphie


**DISCLAIMER**: I OWN NOTHING! _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_ is the property of Sunrise Inc. and was created by director Gorō Taniguchi and writer Ichirō Ōkouchi, _and _several hundred other people.

**The following takes place during _Code Geass: R2 - Episode 8, "One Million Miracles."_**

**UPDATE - Oct.25th, 2019 - The fanfic now has a fabulous commissioned art piece on DeviantArt, drawn by artist Hiyirii.**

* * *

**A Candle for Euphie**

_A fanfic by Mr. Page_

* * *

"_**There are two kinds of guilt: the kind that drowns you until you're useless, and the kind that fires your soul to purpose."**_

—Sabaa Tahir

* * *

He set out for the tall white spire in the distance. His mind, usually so calm and balanced, was on high alert tonight. The new Viceroy and the Knight of Seven would be arriving soon, and he absolutely could _not_ risk them or anyone else seeing him, nor see what he was about to do.

The night outside Mount Fuji, its mountain and trees and natural beauty, was a stark contrast to a night in the Tokyo Settlement. The stars hardly ever appeared over that bright, self-glorified metal patch of Britannian territory. Here, at Mount Fuji — far from tall buildings and the monstrous, luminous glow of the Viceroy's Palace — the stars were plentiful. Some were dim, others dazzling, and a few, though dead and gone, still existed within the soul of their far-reaching light.

It was a perfect night for a walk, to appreciate the simple beauty of nature or to savor the quiet peace rarely found inside the Settlement.

It was also a night to remember . . . and to mourn those no longer here.

Walking alone down the long concrete stairs, each step crisp and clear on the night air, a dark-haired student was heading to a solitary building.

He moved with a steady stride, his stoic face set towards the Fuji Mausoleum.

He let out a slow, deep breath. This would be the last thing he would do before carrying out his grand plan, so it was crucial that he do this.

Nobody's life was at risk, of course, but nevertheless, this was an important matter, and a deeply personal one at that.

His black shoes touched down on the last step and he stopped, his destination in sight.

High above, the mausoleum's tall white spire pointed to the starry heavens. Lowering his gaze, he stared at the interior's large, open archway. A faint golden light glowed from inside the building like a fireplace. And down near the student's feet, a shallow stream of water was flowing from outside and into the mausoleum — a small man-made river.

The young man eyed the water with a dismal gaze. Atop this stream, a thousand candles were floating in various colors, all similar in shape and all lit, drifting gently on the surface like exotic waterlilies.

Each candle was inscribed with a name, most if not all in Japanese. Each one represented a lost life. Lost . . . slain by the cruelest act of fate in the history of Japan, or, as it was currently called, Area 11.

'_And all because of me,'_ the student thought grimly.

He did not like being here, standing amongst this vigil to the innocent souls lost because of his blunder. Even worse, he was within range of where it all happened. But regardless, he _needed_ to be here. There was someone he wished to honor, and if he didn't do it now, he may never get another chance.

After all . . . when you were Lelouch vi Britannia, or the infamous terrorist/revolutionary known as Zero, life never held any promise of seeing another day.

Breathing a slow sigh through his nose, Lelouch lifted the small thing in his hand up to his face. It was all he had brought with him from the train station.

His violet eyes gazed at it, remembering when he had picked it up earlier that day. . . .

* * *

_ "Excuse me?" Lelouch asked the Honorary Britannian. "I'd like to buy a candle, please."_

_ The Japanese woman eyed him with a bewildered look, wondering why on earth a Britannian would ever mourn an Eleven._

_ "Please," Lelouch said with a kindness the woman rarely heard from his kind. "There's someone I wish to honor."_

_ Handing over the pounds, plus a generous tip, Lelouch watched the woman take a gray colored candle out of a box. From the number of empty boxes resting in the corner, several others must have been sold. Just how many, though . . . and for how many people?_

_ "Did you lose someone special?" the woman asked, holding out the candle. "Someone you loved?"_

_ Lelouch eyed the small wax object, his heart aching. "Yes. . . ." he answered, subdued. "Someone very precious to me."_

_ "We all lost someone precious that day," the woman sympathized, smiling with newfound respect for the Britannian boy. "I hope your loved one finds peace."_

_ "Me, too," Lelouch said quietly with a nod, taking the candle and fighting the burning sensation that appeared from behind his eyes._

_ "At least the bitch got what she deserved," the woman scowled._

_ Lelouch shot his head up, startled by her words. "What?"_

_ "Princess Massacre," the woman said with a glare that could pierce iron. "I hope she suffers in Hell for all eternity. Drawing all those people in and building up their hopes so she could kill them while smiling. Oh, I wish I could've been there when Zero shot her dead."_

_ Lelouch stood there, frozen. He was aghast, sickened by her words, his breath caught in his throat as though constricted by a noose._

_ The Honorary Britannian, certain that the boy would voice his own reproach, frowned at the stunned expression facing her. "Are you all right, sir?"_

_ "Y-Yes," Lelouch said shakily. "Just, I . . . I need to go. Thank you and have a good rest of your day."_

_ Turning from her confused look, Lelouch sprinted away, the candle in hand, his face starting to quaver._

_ Straining to get a grip, Lelouch closed his eyes and breathed through his nose._

_ "No," he muttered. "Focus. Wallow in remorse when you have time for it!" he told himself sternly, fighting to keep his emotions from taking hold._

* * *

Standing still, Lelouch gently held the candle he bought. It was a simple design: gray, homemade, and round with a clean white wick.

It wasn't very much, but it was the least he could do.

Inhaling and exhaling through his nose, this time a little harder, Lelouch approached the mausoleum.

He didn't go inside. He couldn't allow himself to be seen. Or rather, he didn't _want_ to be seen. Instead, he walked around the stone building's outer wall and crept towards the back. There, Lelouch found himself in a small garden, a green cluster of lush trees and bushes, grouped around the clear stream that led into the mausoleum.

The skin under his hair prickled. He checked over his shoulders to make sure he wasn't followed. There was nobody there. He was alone and nobody within the building — if there _was_ anyone inside — would see him out here.

He stopped at the water's edge, standing near the large rectangular reflection which glowed with color. There were candles here, too, reminding Lelouch yet again of how much life had been lost.

'_And for what?'_ he thought in shame. '_Nothing. Nothing at all. . . .'_

With a sigh, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and slid his thumb down the side. A tiny flame flickered into life. Carefully, Lelouch held it to the candle's wick, which caught the flame. He loosened his press on the lighter which went out and stowed it back into his pocket.

Then Lelouch just stood there, motionless by the water's edge, staring down at the tiny beacon in his hands, his violet eyes obscuring the many others beyond his field of vision. As significant as all of them surely were, the one he held was quite different. Not only was the name written on it Britannian, but it was a name that everyone knew for one reason or other.

And for Lelouch vi Britannia, it was a name that nobody but he and a select few others could ever truly comprehend.

Frowning, he turned the candle in his hands to reveal the name inscribed on the wax.

**EUPHEMIA**

Lelouch's gaze remained fixed on the name, the world around him silent as though it had walked out and left him there alone. Everyone else his age was either resting up for school tomorrow, off on a date, or doing some other meaningless thing.

And here he was, holding a candle as its flame burned brightly, gently wavering on the night air. A candle bearing the name of Euphemia li Britannia.

Or "Princess Massacre" as she was so often called these days, scorned by both Japanese and Britannians alike.

Lelouch's frown deepened. He hated that disgusting name — that horrible, untrue name to Euphie's wonderful self.

If only everyone knew the truth. If only they knew what _really_ happened that terrible day. . . .

'_But they don't know_,' Lelouch thought with regret. '**Nobody**_ truly knows . . . nobody but me. . . .'_

The weight of this horrible fact seemed to solidify in the candle Lelouch held. He didn't notice it at first, but when he snapped back to attention, he realized his hands were shaking.

Straining his teeth, Lelouch forced his hands to try and stay still, tightening on the candle's base.

But now his eyes were starting to burn, very much like yesterday when he bought the small tribute. What was more, a great pain, an ache he couldn't distinguish to any source emerged and was taking hold like a bullet wound.

And the source, the reason for this emerging agony, was the candle with his half-sister's name. . . .

Gritting his teeth harder, Lelouch's breathing became choked. What was more, his cheek was now wet.

He placed his hand to his face and drew it back. The dim candle light showed that his fingers and palm were coated with glossy tears.

Lelouch grunted, trying to suppress the flow from his eyes, but they did not cease. He continued to gaze at the name EUPHEMIA, and in doing so, continued to feel like his heart was being peeled into.

Within his mind, a small, bitter memory replayed itself: '_Wallow in remorse when you have time for it_.'

Lelouch grimaced. These had been his own words, spoken to an old friend while at gunpoint.

Was this truly the time . . . the time to wallow?

It was no secret that Lelouch didn't like showing his emotions — not to his friends, not to his followers, not even to himself. Emotions were weighty and distracting, and very often brought with them pain. He had grown up learning to suppress his emotions and keep them locked away in secret, not to let anyone or anything in to his cold heart, because emotions could pose harm or be used to cause harm.

The only beautiful exception to this rule was Nunnally: his beloved little sister and the person he loved more than life itself.

Although. . . if he was to be honest, only one other person in the world had ever meant that much to him. The only other member of his family he would have gladly given his life for . . . if she were not already gone. . . .

'_Euphie. . .' _he thought, his eyes burning as they filled with tears.

Breathing quietly in strangled intervals, Lelouch suddenly found that he could barely stand. The weight of the candle was unbearable.

He fell to his knees harder than he meant to, grunting and suppressing a scream as he hit the ground. His knees ached and begged to be rubbed to relieve the pain, but he wouldn't allow it. He would _not_ let go of this candle.

The ache in his legs was nothing, nothing compared to the anguish inflicting his heart as he knelt by this stream, crying as he stared at her name.

'_Euphie. . .'_

It was no use. Lelouch couldn't stop his tears, just as he couldn't stop Euphie from carrying out that horrible command, a command he never intended . . . the command that ruined everything.

And, like the horror movie it was, the memory was replaying itself yet again, never-ending and never ceasing in the reel of his mind. . . .

* * *

_They were backstage, Lelouch and Euphemia._

_He came as Zero and, for the time being, had his helmet removed. His left eye was bothering him._

_He watched as Euphie entered. He remembered how breathtaking she looked in her pink and white dress, resembling a rose in its prime._

_Her smile was so kind and loving, just like always. Lelouch loved Euphie's smile. It was the same as Nunnally's: offering kindness and peace to everyone who saw it. And now, his beautiful sister was ready to make a dream come true, to share her smile on a wider scale._

'_Elevens' would be 'Japanese' once again. The Special Administrative Zone would be a miracle, a stepping stone leading towards a better tomorrow for the war-torn nation._

_ Euphie . . . she was willing to give up her title as Princess, her chance at the throne, just so she could be with Lelouch and Nunnally, the brother and sister she loved so dearly. . . ._

_ And Lelouch . . . he happily acknowledged 'defeat'. He was convinced, prepared, perfectly willing to give up his rebellion and join at his sister's side._

_He imagined the smile on Nunnally's face when she heard the news. They would be a family again; He and his two beloved sisters. . . ._

_Looking back, Lelouch wished with all his might that he had put his helmet back on. . . . He and Euphie should've just gone out and made the dream happen then. He and her, together, like they should have. . . ._

_ Instead. . . ._

_They had an exchange, both with smiles. There was an attempt to explain Geass._

_And then . . . Lelouch made a joke. A stupid, horrible, unfortunate choice of words._

"…_if I told you to kill all the Japanese…"_

_There was a gasp, and the next moment, Euphie was struggling and begging to resist. Horror-struck, Lelouch saw what his foolish words had done, were doing to his sister. Desperate, he tried to take it back, to save her . . . but it was too late._

_A red ring formed in her eyes. A cold, piercing red that overshadowed the soft indigo._

_Euphie walked away, her movements robotic, her gentle mind elsewhere._

_The next thing Lelouch knew . . . gunfire._

_People were screaming. Bodies fell, torn and sprawled on the ground. Blood covered the stadium, the stench drifting and saturating the air. Lelouch could smell it through his mask._

_Bloodstained and without control, Euphie continued her ceaseless rampage, assault rifle in hand while smiling a sick smile that didn't belong to her kind soul._

_ The grizzly sight of the slaughtered Japanese and the beautiful princess ordering their deaths roiled inside him. Lelouch couldn't remembering feeling more disgusted in all his life._

_Euphie . . . his precious sister, reduced to a mindless killer, and she didn't even know what was happening. . . ._

_The carnage continued. Men, women, children — all being butchered left and right by the kindest soul in the Empire, whose only wish had been to help them. Her hope, her dream of peace was smeared and spoiled, tainted like the blood soaking her dress and hands._

_ And Lelouch, in his frustration and sorrow, knew what had to be done. . . ._

_He had no other choice, no other option. He had to put an end to the chaos he created._

_So . . . with a torn, weeping heart, he approached her: the sister he destroyed._

_Euphie seemed to recognize him. She lowered the rifle and her twisted smile seemed to lessen. For that brief moment, she was something like his sister again, if only a sad reminder. . . ._

_His heart breaking, tears spilling from his eyes, Lelouch raised his handgun. He pointed the weapon straight at her, his poor sister . . . he spoke one final goodbye out of love . . . and then . . . he pulled the trigger._

_ The shot exploded like a bomb in his ears._

_ And Euphie's shock. The disbelief in her face over being shot . . . struck down by her own brother, who she loved and trusted . . . who could do nothing but cry behind his mask as Suzaku screamed in rage from above and swept Euphie away before she hit the street._

_ Just like that . . . she was gone. It was over._

_ But the damage. Oh God, the damage. . . . Thousands, dead. Trust, shattered. A dream, destroyed. And the pain . . . the pain Lelouch felt._

_ Time seemed to slow down for him, the agony drawn out like a torn limb._

_ His ears flooded with people cursing Euphie's name. Every insult was a knife, stabbing his heart at the injustice of it all._

_ 'It's not her fault!' Lelouch kept thinking, crying in pain. 'It's not Euphie's fault!'_

_ Self-loathing threatened to engulf him. The guilt and grief were torture — a ruthless enemy without form or rest._

_ And what had his response been? How did he take responsibility? How did he, Lelouch vi Britannia, answer for the terrible crime of killing his sister and the Japanese?_

_The Black Rebellion._

_ To think . . . he used Euphie's death and her unwilling actions to fuel the hellish fire he started. He didn't just tarnish her dream, her hands, and her good name. He tarnished her very memory. . . ._

_ He had killed her in _**every**_ imaginable way. . . ._

_ He even tried lying about her to Suzaku._

_ Suzaku . . . his best friend. . . . He was lost, consumed by anger and revenge for what he, Zero, did to his princess and true love. . . ._

_ And Nunnally. . . Lelouch's guilt mounted to an unbearable height. Nunnally . . . the sound of her crying, repeating Euphie's name, lamenting her dear sister who was gone forever._

_Never before in his life had Lelouch ever wished to die, to end himself. But that day. . . ._

_That one mistake . . . How many betrayals had he committed through that one careless mistake? He murdered his own sister, he slayed countless Japanese, he destroyed his friendship with Suzaku, and he broke Nunnally's heart. . . ._

_Euphie . . ._

_ He killed her . . . He took her away . . . He and his Geass . . . took Euphie away. . . ._

* * *

Back in the present, Lelouch, bent on his knees, continued to sob. The time to wallow in remorse had arrived and it hit him like a knightmare, falling atop and crushing him. He was crying so hard that he could barely breathe through his choking sobs. The candle which bore his sister's name trembled in his hand as his other had to hold the ground for support.

A year's worth of sorrow and memories, suppressed thanks to the Emperor's Geass, had emerged to enact its retribution upon his heart.

Straining, Lelouch opened his eyes. Numb and afflicted, he clawed to the water's edge.

The face staring back was stricken with a grief worse than death. And to his shock, his Geass, bright and red, was glowing. The contact lens blocking his power had fallen out and was stuck to his cheek. With a trembling hand, Lelouch scraped it off where it now rested atop a quivering finger. Slowly, he transferred the lens to his leg where it stuck to his pants.

Lelouch leaned forward and peered again at his reflection, at the wretched face of a man with too much sin for his heart to bear.

And there, glowing dimly back, was his Geass. The Power of the King. His greatest gift and most horrible curse. The weapon he both valued and despised. The thing that took away Euphie. . . .

'_No,'_ Lelouch thought harshly, hating the person looking back at him from the water. _'_**Your**_ words robbed Euphie of her mind! It was _**your**_ fault!'_

His jaw clenched, Lelouch's free hand tightened into a fist as he bowed his head.

'_Euphie . . . Euphie. . .'_

But it was no good. Thinking her name over and over won't bring her back; He had learned that the first time. She was gone, and that was the horrible truth. His beloved, kind-hearted sister was dead. Murdered. Murdered. . . .

Letting go of another strained breath, Lelouch looked down again at the water, and, in that moment, he seriously thought of drowning himself.

It would be easy, and it would be what he deserved. He caused all of this. All these candles floating on this night were there because of him, and Euphie was being blamed for it when she was just as much a victim as they.

Breathing raggedly, Lelouch started to approach the water, his knees now at the edge.

He shook, staring into the stream, his tears falling and creating ripples.

It would surely be deep enough.

He moved a little farther. His knees were just about to slip over the edge. . .

'_Euphie . . . you didn't deserve this . . . _**I**_ do. . .'_

Lelouch's breathing ceased. He leaned closer, closer to the water. . . .

But then, his candle's bright glow appeared in the reflection, right over his heart.

Lelouch paused, his balance barely kept.

Scooting back, he brought the candle up to his face, frowning with misery at the name.

But then, something completely unexpected happened. Just as the top of his hairs bristled in a strange, light breeze — a breeze that seemed to appear out of nowhere — memories came flooding like his tears. Memories which, thanks to the Emperor, had once been suppressed along with his guilt.

These memories, however, brought Lelouch no pain or grief. . . .

Instead, there was warmth and calm. And affection. . . .

_He was holding Euphie's hand and waist, and she held his hand and arm. They were both children, and she was giggling as he led her on a dance at a Pendragon ball. Euphie loved to dance, especially with Lelouch._

_Euphie and Nunnally were bickering, arguing over who was going to marry Lelouch when they were older. He couldn't help but feel modest — and nervous as they tugged on his arms._

_Lelouch and Euphie were holding each other' hands, hiding behind a bush in Marianne's flower garden. There, on that night, so young and innocent, they shared their very first kiss. Their sole witness, the moon._

_And finally, Euphie . . . all grown up, wearing a beautiful white and pink dress, reaching her hand out to her beloved brother . . . asking him to join her in creating a better world . . . a _**gentler**_ world. . . ._

And with this, Lelouch found that his haggard breathing had ceased. Though tears still fell, his eyes no longer stung.

Lifting his gaze, he saw all the other candles still afloat, still burning. Their gentle, golden aura flowed throughout the mausoleum.

He looked back to the one he held. The flame's glow illuminated Euphie's name, which reflected in Lelouch's violet eyes, even his left where his Geass shined like a red bird of death.

And in that moment, as though the candle had lit a path for him to follow, Lelouch's mind cleared and he remembered.

'_Euphie's dream_. . . .'

Her dream hadn't been the Special Administrative Zone . . . it was what she hoped the Special Zone would help bring.

A kinder, gentler world.

And through this realization, Lelouch remembered another person who stated something similar. Someone, like Euphie, who was precious to him — irreplaceable.

'_I wish the world was a gentler place_. . . .'

Lelouch choked out a sob.

His hands lowered to rest on his knees, cradling the candle in his palms.

'_That's right_,' Lelouch thought calmly. '_Euphie and Nunnally both share the same dream. A gentle world. . . . Despite how horrible and corrupt our Empire is, regardless of its malice and strive to squash every bit of kindness the world showed . . . my sisters didn't let it stop them. Euphie and Nunnally were brave enough to hope. Whereas others conformed or conned their way through life, Nunnally and Euphie were honest. They smiled and helped and loved, and prayed for the good of all. . . .'_

Lelouch gazed at the candle with newfound reverence. He stroked the name tenderly with his fingers.

'_A gentle world is this close. . . .'_

Silence returned as Lelouch's sobs came to a halt. His eyes still wet, he closed them and bowed his head.

There, on his knees, Lelouch vi Britannia did something he hadn't done in years, if ever.

He prayed.

'_Euphie. Can you hear me? It's Lelouch. Your brother._

'_Euphie . . . I know you probably hate me for what I did. I know it's my fault everything went wrong. Your dream and life were destroyed because of my mistake. There is no excuse, I know, but . . . I just wanted to say. . . .'_

Lelouch grimaced, his eyes shut tight.

'_Euphie . . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You were so kind and caring, and you only wanted to help the Japanese. You found a way to bring peace to Japan without violence, in a way I never could. I . . . I wanted to join you. I wanted to help you, to stand by your side, hand in hand. Instead, my words robbed you of your grace and killed all those people. I turned you, an angel, into a mindless monster, and, at my own hands, I ended your life._

'_I'm__ the one people should condemn. _**I'm**_ the true demon.'_

Lelouch breathed a deep sob, but did not open his eyes nor stop in giving his prayer.

'_I won't ask for forgiveness, Euphie. I don't deserve it. I will _**never**_ forgive myself for what I did to you. But I wanted you know how sorry I am. For how little I know it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you, and Suzaku, and Nunnally, and the Japanese, and even Cornelia._

'_If somehow you can hear me . . . I want you to know . . . I vow to you . . . I will never turn back. I will keep fighting, for everyone who's died and is still suffering.'_

His fingers cradling it, the candle's warmth radiated through his palms.

'_You and Nunnally share the same hope, Euphie, the same dream . . . and I will fight to my last breath to make it a reality. I will never let what happened to you happen to anyone else ever again._

'_Area 11 _**will**_ be Japan again, and the Japanese will be free. The weak will no longer be oppressed by the strong. Might will no longer be what's right. The world will be liberated from Britannia's cruelty. The world will find peace: the gentle world you and Nunnally both wanted. I'll create it for you both! For everyone! I swear my life and soul on it!_

'_And Euphie . . . I will remember you for who you were. The _**real**_ you. The sister that me and Nunnally cherished and adored, as we still do. As we _**always**_ will.'_

Opening his eyes, Lelouch slowly lowered the candle onto the water, his hands half submerged.

'_Euphie . . . this candle is for you. My beautiful sister. My first love. …The first true victim of the Special Zone. . . .'_

And Lelouch let it go. The candle floated atop the stream. With a gentle push, he sent it forward. On his knees, he watched it drift towards the hundred others, which welcomed it without bias or bitterness.

He got back to his feet, picking the contact lens onto his finger.

The candle drifted farther on, its flame no longer distinguishable among the colored mass. They all seemed to blend, as though they shared the same light.

His Geass still shown, Lelouch's final tear fell as he watched the name EUPHEMIA drift away, like someone waving goodbye.

"I love you, Euphie," Lelouch whispered. "Never forget that."

And with what he needed to say finally said, Lelouch turned his back on the mausoleum and walked away.

Wiping his tear-soaked face on his sleeve, he placed the contact lens back over his left eye. Red was purple once more.

He took the first step back up the stairs, and, at once, his emotions began to wane. His short visit to the past had come and gone, and now the present was returning to him, as it must.

The horrible guilt in his heart had lessened slightly, but didn't fully disappear. Lelouch knew it never would. He will carry this horrible weight forever. It will plague him like a cancer, along with all the sins and mistakes he made — scars that will never fully heal.

But he can't let that stop him. No . . . he _won't_ let it stop him.

He needed to keep going. As Zero, it was his duty and his responsibility. He will fight to the end, the _very_ end. For Nunnally, Kallen, the Japanese, for all those who died and all those still oppressed.

And, of course, he will keep fighting for her . . . for Euphie.

He will make her dream real so Nunnally can live to enjoy it.

And it will all begin tomorrow . . . with the Special Zone.

Before reaching the top step, Lelouch wiped his face one final time and again donned the mask he wore every day: the cold, still, empty mask that was worthy of a demon.

Not far in the distance, Rolo, dressed in casual clothes, spotted his brother and called out, "So, are you finished now?"

"Yes," Lelouch replied in his unhampered voice. "That was the last thing. There's nothing holding me here now."

With a straight, emotionless face, he walked forward.

When Rolo turned around to leave, Lelouch clenched his fists and gazed up at the stars: the very same stars he and his sister saw together on Kamine Island.

'_Euphie . . . I will never turn back. But I will _**always**_ remember.'_

* * *

Back down below in the Fuji Mausoleum, near the many candles atop the glimmering stream, Suzaku Kururugi, the Knight of Seven, and Viceroy Nunnally vi Britannia had their heads bowed in prayer for the lost princess and the many Japanese. The two also gave thanks to the mystery griever who honored Euphie's memory as the gray candle joined alongside Nunnally's.

. . .And far, far away, in another realm outside of theirs, in a place called 'The World of C', a massive group of people stood on the shores of a large, calm river. Men, women, and children were kneeling down, reaching for candles that floated out from the distant fog like fireflies.

Joined among these people, as part of them as they were of each other, was a young woman with long, flowing pink hair, who wore a dress of pink and white, completely free of blood.

All around, the people she cared for drew heartfelt grins and laughter as they received candles bearing their names. A reasonable number of them cried, though . . . mourning as they felt their loved ones' grief. It was to be expected, of course. So much suffering . . . so much death . . . and she caused it all. . . .

Euphie bowed her head, her heart stricken. Being around all these wonderful people, seeing all these tributes to the dead . . . it was all a giant reminder of the bloodstain stain she left on the world.

It may not have been her doing or intention — the Collective Unconscious had made sure every single person understood — but the fact that everything had gone so badly . . . and Lelouch. . . .

Euphie grimaced, her indigo eyes reflecting her growing sorrow.

She knew Lelouch didn't mean it, and didn't realize what happened at the time. He had cried so hard afterward, just as she had. . . .

And they weren't the only ones who suffered.

Suzaku . . . her loving Suzaku. Her kind, devoted Knight became lost to his sorrow, blinded by his anger and his want for revenge.

Nunnally . . . her dear little sister who she just got back. All the time they could've had together . . . gone.

And Lelouch . . . her precious brother. . . .

Euphie's face trembled. Her eyes were now wet.

Her dream was dead. She was gone from her loved ones. The future they could have shared was destroyed, stolen by fate's cruelty. And everyone else in the living world despised her, cursed her name and spat on her memory. No one would even think to mourn someone like her. . . .

At least . . . that's what Euphie feared.

Her eyes, hindered by tears that had not yet escaped, caught a glint of something golden.

Looking up with a sniffle, her grief turned to surprise as a pink candle floated to the shore, stopping at her feet.

Bending over, she reached for the candle that read EUPHY and lifted it off the water. Holding it in her palms, Euphie felt Nunnally's and Suzaku's love flow from her hands and into her soul.

She smiled tremulously. Overjoyed that someone still cared, that someone remembered her true self, Euphie raised the candle to her lips and kissed it.

A moment later, the candle glowed a bright pink and dissolved on the air like embers floating away into the night.

Euphie watched the traces rise. They did not fade or fall, but continued upward as though destined for the stars, disregarding the limitations of space.

"Hey, Euphie!" cried a young Japanese child. Euphie looked down, smiling at one of the many children she had come to adore. "There's another one for you! Look!" The little one pointed towards the haze.

Sure enough, a new candle was floating across the river. The tiny flame illuminated the name EUPHEMIA on its side.

_'Another one?'_ Euphie thought, confused. _'For me?'_

It drifted closer until it eventually stopped at the shore, inches from Euphie's feet. She wasn't the only one taken aback by this candle's existence. Most of the Japanese stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the gray token.

Kneeling down again, Euphie reached for the candle. Her soft fingers grasped the bottom and she lifted it out of the river.

Curious, the fallen princess stood up and stared down at it. The gray candle was the same shape as Nunnally's, the same shape as all the others that were delivered on this night. The name was written with her official name, 'Euphemia', so there wasn't much to distinguish whether it was from someone who knew her personally or not. Only her friends and loved ones called her 'Euphie', so who could have delivered _this_ tribute?

Her mind steady, Euphie focused, trying to draw out the deeper meaning from this gesture.

And what she felt . . .

Through this candle, there came sorrow, remorse, and guilt, all from a soul with a heavy heart. It was almost too much to take in. But from this candle, there also came a prayer. A sad, passionate prayer that ended with these words:

_'I love you, Euphie. Never forget that.'_

The sadness, the conviction, the promise . . . and the final words from her brother. They seemed to reverberate through Euphie like a warm embrace. An embrace she had felt before. . . .

Tears . . . tears flowed down Euphie's cheeks as she smiled her warm, beautiful smile.

"Lelouch. . ."

There was no resentment, no anger, no hatred, just as there hadn't been any when she died. All Euphie felt right now was love. Love for Suzaku, her devoted Knight. Love for Nunnally, her sweet little sister. And love for Lelouch, her dear brother whose kind heart few ever saw or appreciated.

And it was from him, Lelouch, that Euphie felt hope . . . hope for her dream of a gentler world, reignited in the flame of her brother's candle and the blessing he delivered across the realms.

Like a beacon, the small gray gift seemed to call out to the fallen Japanese, who all grouped around Euphie to feel the empowering spirit coursing through the flame. Though small, it shined brilliantly in the night, gleaming off the river's surface and bathing everyone in its warmth.

The children stared at the candle in wonder, the adults and elderly beheld it with awe, and Euphie, tears on her cheeks, smiled with gratitude.

Her heart hopeful once more, she whispered, "Lelouch . . . thank you," and she kissed her brother's gift.

The candle resonated in her palms, its light growing intensely until both it and the flame merged together. It rose slowly out of Euphie's hands and ascended into the night air over the river, every eye upon it.

Hovering for a brief moment, the ball gained in brightness like a miniscule sun. Then, in a short, glorious instant . . . it burst outward, filling the whole area with tiny golden sparks.

The princess and her fellow Japanese watched in amazement as the embers drifted down like snow, passing all around them and leaving behind a promise carried on a prayer. A promise of a gentler world, made by someone who shared Euphie's dream.

Her spirit at ease, Euphie raised her sight to the starry heavens. Several stray embers from the candle lingered, refusing to burn out or fade. Fueled by more than just fire, they flew higher into the night, perhaps trying to seek out a place in the stars beyond.

And out of this sparkling cluster, this infinite canvas of black, Euphie found a familiar patch of stars: the same sky she and her brother once beheld together.

As her final tear fell, Euphie grinned softly.

'_Lelouch . . . I will keep holding on. So please . . . please do the same for me. Light the way to a gentle world. Light the way. . . . And remember . . . Your sister loves you too. I love you so much, brother. Always remember that. Until we meet again . . . Lelouch.'_

* * *

**All comments are welcome, both positive and constructive. Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**May Euphie always be remembered for who she was. May she smile, knowing that she is always loved. May she rest in peace, knowing that her dream came true.**

**Story Began: **April 21st, 2019 — **Story Finished: **June 25th, 2019


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